


Top 10 Anime Betrayals feat. Freakss

by corns



Series: Trending: Kill's Lifestyle Vlogs [3]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19424104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corns/pseuds/corns
Summary: Four months after his last pneumothorax and four months after Gon and Killua started dating, Gon realizes something tragic:That he isn't at all equipped for long distance relationships.





	Top 10 Anime Betrayals feat. Freakss

**Author's Note:**

> Title courtesy of the Discord server lol

**G** on _really_ didn’t have an issue with the way Killua acted on stream. He really didn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that it gave him whiplash more often than not. 

It wasn’t that KILLU was an entirely different persona from the Killua Gon knew for those three weeks at the AssassiNation house. That certainly wasn’t the case. Killua was still just as crass, stubborn, and loud in person as he was on screen, but being around Killua consistently for days on end gave Gon a sliver of insight into what Alluka knew of Killua and an entirely different version of Killua that Gon wasn’t privy to—and likely _wouldn’t_ have been privy to if he wasn’t confined to bedrest within kicking-proximity to Killua. 

It was the version of Killua that didn’t soften any edges, but became… _idle_. It was a version of Killua that was depleted of energy and didn’t bother to mind Gon’s arms around him, Gon’s fingers threaded in his hair, Gon’s hands on the tight, corded muscles of Killua’s stomach, tracing lines around Killua’s obliques. Gon had reveled in those moments in the early morning or late at night after hours of streaming when Killua took to Twitter to read through comments. That low-energy Killua was, by far, Gon’s favorite part of being at the AssassiNation house.

But now that he was back at the LA apartment, hours away from San Francisco, he didn’t have that version of Killua anymore. Low-energy Killua wouldn’t want to call him, and it wouldn’t make sense to. They couldn’t exist in the same space together like that, not with so many miles between them.

Now? Now Gon only experienced high-energy screaming through his headset and coarse conversations through Snapchat. Granted, Gon was almost _always_ high-energy, so it wasn’t that he was _complaining_. He _liked_ having someone to scream and joke around with.

But that didn’t make him miss low-key Killua any less.

Gon tucked his arm under his chin, hugging the pillow close to his chest as he skimmed Killua’s Instagram feed for the seventh time that day. He couldn’t stop himself, especially when he had exhausted all of his outlets for the day—class, working out, social hour with Zushi and Alluka in their apartment kitchen… it all made him _yearn for_ the comfort of Killua’s bed and the spirited, amber accents for his cologne threaded into the fabric.

He wanted to lay within proximity to Killua, but when he closed his eyes all he could smell were the dryer sheets he used in his laundry last weekend. He couldn’t even pretend that the Killua he knew was in the room with him. 

Logically, he knew this was all a matter of his personal shortcomings. However, he supposed he never would have known this simple fact had he and Killua not decided to go steady. That simple fact was this: 

That Gon wasn’t made for long distance. 

***

Gon felt like his brain was being tied down to his feet and the strings were tightening with each second. He couldn’t hold his head up when he felt like _this_ , and it made his workout unsatisfying, his meal tasteless, and his motivation for homework gone— _poof_. Not that… he had much motivation for homework to begin with… but now it was impossible for him to so much as open his notebook. 

He sat in his desk chair and idly spun at the speed of a snail around in circles, using the desk for momentum. He had his knees up to his chest so he could perch his chin on them, frowning intently at something in the faraway distance. He was debating how to talk to Killua when everything that came out was a complaint, a worry, Gon, whining, “Oh, poor me.” If anything, Gon was the opposite of that. He wouldn’t let himself slip—besides, Killua had a lot going on. 

This entire _month_ , really, was _all KILLU_. Twenty-four hour streams, obnoxious challenges, a houseful of streamers working overtime for the charity event of the year. It meant that Killua was less responsive than usual unless he was dragging Gon onto a stream for reaching a donation milestone that was paired with the prize of playing a game with Gon. It seemed that was the motivation for Killua’s consistent fourteen _thousand_ viewers—donate enough money and they’ll get to see Gon again. 

It would have nauseated him had they not been raising money for humane societies. Every year the AssassiNation squad got together and determined what cause they’d be donating to. Evidently, it always ended with Knuckle slamming his fists on the table and demanding they raise money and awareness to the humane society. No one argued because no one felt like battling it out with Knuckle. 

So yeah, Gon participated in those milestone streams, if only for the animals in need. 

KILLU, on the other hand…

“ _Get over here you piece of shit—Get on the damn ATV_.”

Gon snickered, even though his smile felt like plastic glued to his face. “In your dreams, _sucker_ ,” Gon said, running away from the scene. 

It was at this point that Killua started shooting at him, but he kept running, giggling all the way up the hill. It was all friendly fire—they were in duos, anyway, which meant that Killua couldn’t _actually_ shoot Gon even if he wanted to. He escaped over the hill as the sound of the ATV came closer and closer until it squealed straight up to Gon, the breaks cutting across the grass in front of Gon. He was entirely blocked by Killua’s Catwoman skin wearing a helmet atop the ATV.

“ _The circle’s closing—get on the damn ATV, idiot_ ,” Killua said.

“Not with that attitude I’m not,” Gon said, shaking his head. He could see Killua giving him a droll stare through the webcam before glancing at the chat and then back to Gon. Gon rose his eyebrows as if to say, “ _You think I’m kidding?_ ”

Killua rolled his eyes and cursed again. “ _Fucking fine._ Please _get on the ATV so we can win this thing_ ,” he said. 

“Thank you,” Gon said and climbed onto the back of the ATV.

On the back of that ATV, Gon had time to peruse and relax for a moment as the Red Zone closed in behind them and Killua rode them to safety. The hills were clear of competitors and the map became eerily quiet aside from the motor of the ATV. He drew his eyes away from the ticking clock to focus on Killua, who was talking to the chat on stream, having muted his mic on Gon’s end so Gon couldn’t hear. He didn’t mind it—otherwise he’d constantly be hearing Killua’s commentary to the stream. 

Killua wasn’t the sort of streamer to acknowledge his stream notifications. He made a point to let his viewers know that he wouldn’t acknowledge follows and subs on stream—he received too many of them to bother with it, and to top it off, he had an aversion to the words ‘ _thank you_ ’. Gon didn’t quite understand it, but he could tell from the pop up notifications at the corner of Killua’s stream that it would be near impossible for Killua to keep track of new followers anyway. 

Since The Era of Gon, as the Twitter fandom tended to call it, Killua’s stream stats _had_ experienced a jump and Killua attributed it to the fact that Gon refused to start his own stream. It made Gon uncomfortable being the center of attention to thousands of strangers—he wouldn’t know how to cope with that responsibility. He could only force himself to feel responsible for himself and his friends, and perhaps that was another one of his shortcomings. 

The fact that Gon felt responsible for Killua’s attitude on stream. It came with the territory of being able to convince Killua to lighten up once in a while—like saying ‘ _please_ ’ when asking Gon to do something. So yeah, Gon felt responsible but he knew that he couldn’t change Killua’s online personality in a snap. He feared the consequences of it too much to bother. 

Gon squinted at something on Killua’s screen. It wasn’t in the gameplay, but rather, in his webcam. Killua leant back in his gamer chair then and it gave Gon a full view of his t-shirt.

“What’s… on your shirt?” Gon asked. Killua perked up a little, pulling a foot up onto the edge of his seat as he straightened his shirt out for Gon to see. Gon swallowed hard at the sight of _his face_ stretched across Killua’s shirt. “Why’re you wearing a shirt with my _face_ on it?” 

“‘ _Cause it’s funny,_ ” Killua said with a laugh, grinning into the camera. He stopped the ATV so he could stand up and show it off to the chat. Gon wasn’t even sure when that photo was _taken_ , but it was vectorized in black and white and reminded Gon that t-shirts were a part of Killua’s brand. Hell, Killua had an entire _fashion line_ —of course he’d sell t-shirts. 

_This is weird_ , Gon thought to himself, settling back in his chair with a frown. Killua went full-screen with his face, leaning into the camera with those sharp, icy blue eyes pinned on Gon. Gon couldn’t delude himself into imagining Killua leaning over him like that again. It’d just make him more depressed about his current state of being several hours away from San Francisco. 

“ _Why’re you pouting_ ,” Killua said. 

“I’m not,” Gon said, pouting. He put his arms over his face when Killua raised an eyebrow at the camera. “Stop looking at me like that,” he whined.

“ _Like what, dipshit? Like I’m concerned?_ ”

Gon crossed his arms irritably as he rolled his eyes away from the screen, saying, “Like you think I’m acting weird.”

“ _That’s because you always act weird_.”

“ _Killua_ …” Gon groaned, slumping in his seat. He slumped so far he started to fall off his seat. He looked at the door and wished Zushi would just come into his room and give him an excuse to leave so he wouldn’t have to deal with the barrage of messages on Killua’s chat, chanting, “ _Gon, tell us what’s wrong!_ ”

“I’m just…” Gon started, rubbing a hand down the side of his face. He rubbed at the corner of his eye and sighed, “—really tired. I should probably go to bed.”

Killua squinted at him once before dropping back into his seat. He dragged his tongue over the front of his teeth and studied something off screen for a moment, long enough for Gon to wonder if Killua knew. If Killua knew that Gon was losing steam _fast_. He’d be deadweight by the end of the semester—he’d never make it to winter break like this.

“ _Okay_ ,” Killua said. “ _Finish the match with me, though?_ ”

Gon expected to hear it as a demand—that was how Killua was on stream. It was _Killua’s_ zone, no one else’s, which meant that Gon played by his rules when the cameras were rolling—that is, when Gon wasn’t being a snarky little shit, which was more often than not. He didn’t have the energy for it these days.

“Yeah, okay,” Gon agreed, smile returning. He went back to his mouse and keyboard and set out after Killua to demolish the competition.

This far into the match, they had taken out most of the stream snipers and were left with actual players who kept to themselves—unless they, too, were here to break records. The aggression of these players in the last few rings of the circle were what gave Gon the high he craved when playing Hunter vs Hunter. It was a game of reckless strategy, of monopolizing the best weapons, of _winning_ over the 98 other players on the map. Gon was here to build excessively with Killua always a step over him, jumping from one precipice to another with each shot landing on its target. 

While Killua was more into close-range battles, Gon’s ideal vantage point was from high above everyone. He had Knuckle to thank for this—Gon never would have learned to build towers with such precision were it not for that training session twelve hours before the $300k tournament. He never would have felt the power high he got from sniping in the safety of his tower, through edited windows and an elaborate labyrinth. 

And then, Killua plucked off the last player and it sent confetti across the screen—first place for the fifth time that night. 

Killua threw his controller at his bed and put his arms up, screaming, “ _OH! DID YOU SEE THAT?! Fuck! Now that’s what I’m talking about!_ ”

Gon laughed as he ran his hands through his hair. He settled back, still grinning from the rush. His adrenaline was pumping again and he wasn’t the least bit tired. When Killua returned to his seat, Gon put his thumbnail between his teeth, trying to stop his smile from overtaking his face as Killua huffed, “ _Shit, I was so fucking close. I nearly went the whole game without taking any damage until that last motherfucker got me.”_

_“_ That was good,” Gon said. 

“ _Oh yeah? You like that?_ ”

“Yeah, I liked that. Next time we won’t take damage,” Gon said, and it was a promise. 

Killua’s grin slid into a smile as he leant agains this armrest and studied his screen, the one where he had Gon on FaceTime. Gon bit his lip, clasping his hands around his knee as Killua said, “ _What’re you doing tomorrow?_ ” with a little tip of his head, and it was all Gon could do to stop himself from going crazy.

“I don’t know. I have class, the guys and I are gonna play some ultimate frisbee.”

“ _Sexy. Should I be jealous?_ ”

Gon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, of a bunch of straight dudes. Sure.”

“ _They’re all in denial_ ,” Killua said. “ _Straight people don’t exist. Everyone’s bi_.”

“Oh yeah? And what about me?”

“ _An anomaly_ ,” Killua decided. “ _99% gay, by far_.”

“What’s the other 1%?”

“ _The 1% is for me_ ,” he said. Gon laughed—it was such a ridiculous answer that he couldn’t stop himself. This was how it was at the AssassiNation house. He wanted this back so terribly he could cry and scream about it.

“Are you sure you don’t mean 50%?” Gon asked, and this time, Killua laughed. 

“ _Oh, yeah, let me just get out a ring right now and propose,_ ” Killua said. 

“No, then it’d be 100%,” Gon insisted, and before Killua could argue with him, Gon said, “‘Cause I have half my life here and the other half in San Francisco. If we got married I’d be 100% with you, right?” 

He had the satisfaction of watching Killua’s cheeks turn pink. Flustered, Killua reached for his mouse and put on a waiting screen on his stream so it was just Gon and Killua on FaceTime—no one watching them. Gon felt his chest tighten at the way Killua looked at him through the webcam. He watched Killua swallow hard, turning away from the camera. His pale, snow-white hair glowed under the fluorescent ring light over his gamer set up. Gon missed watching Killua play from his post at the bed, watching how that ring light haloed around Killua’s bleached hair and silhouetted his gamer chair. 

Killua cleared his throat and said, “ _I’m not good at asking ‘what’s wrong’, but I know something’s up with you_.”

Gon should have expected it. Some part of him knew that Killua was fully aware of everything that Gon was going through. Now, he couldn’t stop staring at his face on Killua’s t-shirt. It was too ridiculous. 

Gon scratched at his hair and sighed, “No, I’m fine.”

“ _Skip the bullshit, Freakss_ ,” Killua said. “ _I’m on my fourth espresso and I’ve gained a sixth sense that tells me that you’re shitting bricks about something and I want to know what._ ”

“I’m not—” Gon shook his head, alarmed by the visual. 

“ _You want me to propose or some shit? We’ve been dating for, like, four months_.”

“I was kidding about that!” Gon squeaked, startled. He waved his hands frantically and said, “A-And that’s not the point! I don’t care about getting married.”

The tension in Killua’s shoulders relaxed. Killua let out a relieved laugh and said, “ _Thank fuck, holy shit_.”

“Y-You thought I was being serious?!” Gon cried, a laugh bubbling up and taking over. He collapsed back, laughing. He almost fell out of his chair. “Oh my God!” he cried, stomach aching. 

He doubled over laughing as Killua said, “ _Sh-Shut up! Weddings give me hives, dude!_ ”

“That was priceless!” Gon said, brushing away tears. 

When they sobered, Gon took to leaning against his desk so his eyes were close to the webcam and even closer to Killua’s face on the screen. Gon pushed his cheek to his hand and smiled. Killua’s cheeks were still pink as he rubbed the back of his head of white hair and said, “ _So, um… you’re good?_ ”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gon said, and he was, in that moment, fine. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“ _Yeah, later_.”

Gon ended the video and, when he exited the game and his screen went black, he felt at ease again. At least for a little while.

***

“Is it weird that Killua has a t-shirt with my face on it?” Gon asked the following morning over chocolate chip pancakes. He and Zushi were perched at the kitchen counter stools, their feet on the metal spokes and a plateful of pancakes before them. Gon felt full before he even put a piece in his mouth, but he forced himself to down it all for the sake of his figure. 

Zushi hummed and said, voice muffled, “Maybe a little. Where did he get it?”

“I don’t know. I just sort of assumed that he made it. You know he sells merch? What if he’s selling a t-shirt with my face on it?” Gon asked, chest hurting at the thought. 

Zushi shook his head, brow furrowed. “I doubt it. He’d ask you first.”

“He didn’t ask me when he started putting videos of me on YouTube.”

“That’s different, dude. Those aren’t physical.”

“They are to me,” Gon muttered, frowning off to the side. “They’re both _real_ , regardless. I just don’t want people spending money on my face, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess I can get that,” Zushi said. “But geez, Killua really did pick a gem. You don’t even like publicity and you’re dating an internet famous streamer.”

Gon didn’t _mean_ to take it to heart, but it was so in line with his mental spirals that his lip started wavering before he could stop it. Zushi was right—he wasn’t cut out to be in the spotlight, much less dating someone who _was_. It was only a matter of time before Killua saw that. Hell, maybe Killua already knew and he was just waiting for the right time to tell Gon that it was over between them. 

“Oh, shit,” Zushi said, putting his fork down. “Oh, fuck, shit, don’t cry, dude. Gon, come on—” He got up to stand next to Gon’s stool and wrap his arms around Gon’s shoulders. 

Gon leant into Zushi’s embrace with a shaky sigh of relief. He had someone to lean on and he was grateful for that. All he wanted was to bundle up in a blanket and watch the first five minutes of _27 Dresses_ just to pass out. He liked the first five minutes of that movie, considering it was all he could watch before falling asleep. 

That was exactly what they did, at eight in the goddamn morning. Gon’s first class wasn’t until eleven, and Zushi only had one night class that day. Zushi let Gon lay his head on Zushi’s lap, a lightweight blanket tucked up around him for the comfort of feeling _enveloped_ in _something_ , like all of his worries could be bundled up and packaged away for another, later date.

When he awoke two hours later, he trudged through the day as he would any other—smiling, happy, and attentive. He missed his time slot for the gym, but that was okay, because by late afternoon he was in the quad with his frisbee buddies running laps here to there and being tackled to the ground in fits of laughter. It was as if nothing was different, nothing had changed, and the seed of whatever he felt that morning was buried so deep in his mind that by evening it hadn’t even sprouted to the surface. He was okay, once again, with the inconsistency of his chats with Killua. They’d be back to a normal rhythm after the charity streams were done. They just had to make it to the weekend. 

And then, Friday came, and it was like Gon hadn’t so much as shed a tear over a single thing. That morning he fell asleep in Zushi’s lap? Nonexistent. It was so far in the past that it was no longer relevant to the present. At least, that was what he thought as he plucked up a sliver of ginger and stuck it on his tongue. 

He hummed in delight and said, “I love how ginger just sort of makes my entire mouth feel numb for a few seconds.”

Alluka rose an eyebrow at him from over the table and said, “I… don’t think it’s supposed to do that.”

“Bit odd,” Zushi agreed, popping a bit of sushi into his mouth. It took him a few seconds to speak again, gasping for air. “ _God_ , my mouth is too small for this. Why do we have to eat them all in one bite?”

“No one said you had to,” Alluka said. “You’re just making yourself suffer unnecessarily.”

“Speaking of suffering unnecessarily,” Zushi said, pointing his chopsticks to Gon, who had two entire rolls stuffed in his cheeks. He blinked, eyes wide, as Zushi said, “What’s up with you and Killua?”

“Mofing,” Gon said, barely audible. He chewed quickly and swallowed down his food. He went for a glass of water all while Zushi spoke.

“Have you even _talked_ to him about the t-shirt thing? Or about _anything?_ ”

“Talk about what?” Alluka said, looking between the two of them. “Did something happen?”

“ _Nothing_ happened,” Gon said, waving his hands sharply. “Everything’s _fine_.”

“Gon cried on my shoulder on Monday and then fell asleep in my lap watching _27 Dresses_ ,” Zushi explained to Alluka, who gasped in horror and whispered, “It’s even worse than I thought.”

“ _What?!_ ” Gon cried, exasperated. “Nothing’s _wrong_. It was a _phase_.”

“Yeah right!” Zushi said. “I’ve never seen you cry emotionally before.”

“Isn’t crying always emotional?” Alluka asked.

“Except for when you’re in gut-wrenching agony,” Gon muttered, reminded of the knife in his back just four months prior. He shuddered. He never wanted to experience that kind of pain again, but judging by the state of his lungs, it was bound to happen again. So far, there weren’t any flare ups and he was more than grateful for any spec of positive news his doctors could give him.

He shook his head and said, “I was on my period. We can ignore any mood swings during that time.”

“You don’t even have a vagina,” Zushi said, voice edged with the promise of murder. He turned to Alluka and said, “Killua has a t-shirt with Gon’s face on it and Gon’s worried his making money off of it.”

“Oh, that’s it?” Alluka said, startled. “He got that from one of his followers! Someone screen printed it for him. I think she only had two shirts—one for him and one for her that he signed.”

“It’s still weird,” Gon muttered, scowling at his plate. When he looked up, both Alluka and Zushi were staring at him. He yelped with a start, saying, “Not that I have a problem with it, because I don’t! People can make whatever they want!”

“Still, it’s your face, dude,” Zushi said. “If you don’t want him wearing it, you should tell him.”

“But whoever made it is probably super happy that he’s wearing it, so I’m not gonna bother,” he insisted, shaking his head. He went to stuff another roll in his mouth so they could just end this conversation already. “So it’s fine. I don’t care.”

As he munched on a roll, Alluka leant over to Zushi and whispered, “He cares.”

Gon groaned and dropped his forehead onto the table.

***

Gon waited all of Friday evening and into Saturday staring at the unopened icon next to Killua’s Snapchat nickname. Gon had messaged him after lunch with Alluka and Zushi, but it remained untouched, unopened, ignored. To top it off, Zushi had left without explanation so that when Gon emerged from the shower that morning, the entire apartment was silent. He compensated for the silence by blasting _Teenage Dirtbag_ , which hyped him up for the first fifteen minutes. It took fifteen minutes to dance around the kitchen, make an omelette, and eat it while belting out the lyrics.

Gon slammed the spatula down, cranking his arms to and fro as he shimmied his shoulders and sang, “ _Yeah I’m just a teen-age dirt-bag, ba-by_ , _listen to I-ron Mai-den, baby, with ME!_ ” and kicked into the guitar solo with a wicked riff on the spatula. He rolled his hips to the beat as he carried his plate around the apartment, eating bits of omelette and singing into the fork. 

But, once the omelette was gone, the depression was back. It became a great big weight was on every fiber of his being and holding his mind hostage where he collapsed with the empty plate on his chest, lying there on the living room floor. 

He stared vacantly at the ceiling as the slow verse trickled into the nasally lyrics. He couldn’t even sway his head side to side as he muttered the verse under his breath—“ _I’ve got two tickets to I-ron Mai-den, baby. Come with me Fri-day, don’t say may-be._ ” He ended it with a long, dejected sigh. _This is annoying_ , he thought, closing his eyes. _I need to get out of here_.

Just as he thought it, a knock sounded on the door and it was accompanied by the sound of Alluka’s voice calling out, “ _Open up, you nerd!_ ”

The knocking persisted until Gon unlocked the door and opened it a crack. Alluka slammed in over the threshold and swung the door shut behind her. He jumped at the sudden _bang!_ that sounded from the doorframe before Alluka cranked the lock back into place and turned to Gon. Her hair was a complete mess in her long, brunette braid and her eyes were the size of saucers.

Alluka flattened her back against the door, arms and legs starfished out. She looked across the apartment to where Gon’s phone was blasting _Teenage Dirtbag_ , and Gon frantically went to it and paused the music. Silence was once again restored to the empty apartment. 

“Killua’s in the elevator,” she said, panting. “And I just want to say that it’s not my fault for once.”

Gon stared at her and almost laughed, but then again, she had run all this way and looked like she was looking Death in the face and saying, “ _Screw you, I’m not afraid of you_.” He startled then, gasping, “Wait, you’re serious. Oh, shit—I mean—Shoot, darn it, what’s he doing here?!”

“I’d like to take this moment to blame Zushi for telling Killua that you cried and fell asleep to _27 Dresses_.”

Gon froze in the middle of the apartment, looking like a goddamn Sasquatch sighting. He stared ahead and tried to force his sluggish brain to buck up and _function_. What did this mean? It meant that this entire week of “progress” was effectively down the drain, but after spending an entire hour lying on the ground listening to _Teenage Dirtbag_ on repeat, he really couldn’t say that any progress was made whatsoever. 

It meant that Killua was in proximity to him. That Killua was _in LA_ to see _him_. Killua wasn’t good at asking ‘ _what’s wrong_ ’, though, so maybe they wouldn’t talk about any of it and it’d just be a weekend to both remember and forget. _Maybe we could go clubbing_ , he thought, thinking about the remaining $200k in his bank account. 

In the amount of time it took for Gon’s brain to branch off into a thousand different directions, a key was put in the keyhole and Alluka was leaping away from the door. She ran, arms floundering in the air, to Gon, who startled and once again hissed, “What do I do? I don’t know what to do—” to which Alluka said, “I don’t know! I just had to warn you in case—”

The door opened. 

_Shit_.

Zushi came into view, stepping into the apartment with a wide, shit-eating grin. He snuck in with a little shimmy in his step, beaming at Gon as he said, “Look who I found—!” but Gon’s eyes were already frozen on Killua, who stood just over the threshold as the door swayed open and left nothing but Alluka between them. 

Killua looked just as Gon remembered him—lean, exhausted, and pale as a ghost in a black sweatshirt and sweatpants. He was solid and _real_ —so real that Gon felt something loosen in his chest with a _click_ , like the pin coming loose on a grenade and he was two seconds away from bursting at the seams.

They stared at each other long enough for Gon to have come up with something to say, but damn his sluggish brain. 

All that came out was a weak, “I can’t breathe.”

Killua blinked and Alluka turned to him, startled. Zushi’s mouth fell open as Gon processed what he had just said and out of instinct he put a hand to his chest like his lung had collapsed all over again. It was such a gut reaction he didn’t know he had until that moment when he fell to his knees and fake-wheezed on the ground. 

“Fucking Hell,” Killua swore, dropping his duffle. He rushed over the threshold Alluka panicked, dropping to her knees next to Gon as Zushi screamed in the background, “Did you honestly just pop another lung?! Dude!”

Gon slumped onto his back so he could see Killua upside down, Allua’s head pressed closed to his, and Zushi peering at him from over the kitchen countertop. He breathed for a moment as they all waited for his consensus. He stared up at Killua, who had a hand on Gon’s shoulder, his brow furrowed up in concern. Gon reached up to clasp his hand over Killua’s, a soft smile on his lips.

“Sorry, I panicked,” he said. 

Alluka slumped back against the wall with a breath of relief. Meanwhile, Killua stared at him in horror. Gon rolled onto his side and pushed himself up, still sitting on the ground as Killua dropped his head onto Gon’s shoulder and said, “I’m going to fucking _murder you_. I can’t _believe you_.”

Gon giggled as he felt the wisps of Killua’s soft, bleached hair against his cheek. Killua put his head up just to pull Gon to him for a tight hug. Gon pushed into it, giving himself a moment just to tuck his face into the crook of Killua’s neck and breathe in that bright, autumnal aroma of Killua’s cologne. He could smell the herbs from Killua’s shampoo on his hair and his freshly cleaned skin. Gon clung to it all with his hands clutching Killua’s sweatshirt. 

The piece of Gon that loosened in his chest still hung, limp, deep inside. It took more effort than he expected just to swallow down the tight sensation in the back of his throat, clinging to the back of his eyes.

When Killua pulled away, Gon stared at him, wide-eyed, as Killua looked at him for a long, dreadful moment. Gon read the look loud and clear: There was shit to talk about, and _that_ was why he was in LA. He wasn’t here for fun and games. 

Gon put his head down as he rose to his feet alongside Killua, who moved on to hug his sister. Killua swung Alluka back and forth, saying, “You little rat—You ruined the surprise.” Alluka giggled, her arms tight around Killua’s neck until her feet touched the ground once more. 

Killua clapped Zushi on the back to thank him for getting him in the building. Zushi looked a little disoriented, either starstruck or as if he didn’t believe Gon’s collapse was an act. Zushi nodded, hesitantly, and said, “Y-Yeah, no problem. I’ll just—Alluka, let’s go grab something to eat.”

“But—” she started, gesturing to Killua and, likewise, Gon. Gon couldn’t form words. His eyes were stuck on Killua, who went to retrieve his duffle as Zushi went to grab his wallet. Alluka met him at the door, so when Zushi was over the threshold, all it took was a quick wave and a sweet, “Have fun, guys!” before they were gone and the door locked.

Gon felt the slamming door reverberating through his bones. He startled, and it kicked the block on his brain straight into the stratosphere. 

“K-Killua,” Gon started, hand reaching for Killua’s sleeve. 

Killua dropped his duffle strap in an instant. Gon barely processed the gap between them before it was closed and the heat of Killua’s sweatshirt enveloped him once again. Killua’s hand stilled on the edge of the countertop, his lips pressed firmly to Gon’s with a breathless curse on the tip of his tongue. He let it go as they separated, slowly, between chaste kisses that ended with, “God, I missed you, you idiot.”

Gon felt those words stringing along every bone in his body. The thread tugged tight, immobilizing him when Killua kissed him again with his mouth open against Gon’s pliable lips. The tension from his words tied knots around the aching in his chest that finally popped. 

Gon’s lips trembled, his breath catching. He fisted his hand against Killua’s sleeve, where he had held on from the start, and where Killua’s fingers traveled against the elastic hem of Gon’s shorts. Killua pulled away, his eyes opening to meet Gon’s glassy eyes. 

“What’s wrong—Why’re you crying,” Killua said, voice tight, like he completely forgot to enunciate any form of emphasis, any emotion.

Gon didn’t even think to brush away his tears. He couldn’t even feel them, dripping down his cheeks and off of his chin. He sniffled as Killua cursed and pulled his sleeves over his hands, rubbing at Gon’s cheeks as he said, “Tell me what’s wrong, you idiot. Did I do something? Tell me what the fuck to do—”

“E-Everything’s fine,” Gon stammered, completely not fine.

Killua leant back, looking constipated and done with Gon’s bullshit. It just made Gon gasp harder when Killua said, “I’ll fucking punt your ass to Texas if you say you’re fine when you’re bawling your eyes out one more time.” Killua rolled his eyes when Gon couldn’t speak. He pulled Gon away from the counter and to the couch. After firmly shoving Gon onto a cushion, he stormed the kitchen, cursing up a storm, and came back approximately two minutes later with a glass of water and a box of tissues. He chucked the tissue box onto Gon’s lap and collapsed next to him as Gon chugged the water in one sitting. 

When Gon finished, he came up gasping, tears subsided, feeling like someone had his cheeks encased in saran wrap. He clutched at an unused tissue, a foot pulled up on the cushion as Killua leant back, an arm around the cushion behind Gon, and waited for Gon to make up his mind. 

He swallowed down the salt numbing his tongue and said, “I-I don’t like being on your streams and videos.”

“Okay, fine,” Killua said. He said it so bluntly and emotionless that Gon flinched, half expecting to see Killua leave the apartment right then and there. When Killua didn’t move, he turned to glance side-ways at Killua, who stared at him for a moment and shrugged. “What?”

“Doesn’t that—Aren’t you mad?” Gon asked.

Killua rolled his eyes. “Why should I be?”

“B-Because I thought…” _I helped you make money. That you depended on me to do so_.

Killua seemed to catch the train of thought and shook his head. “Dude, I’ll be fine with or without you on my stream. Alluka will be fine, too. Do you even realize how that shit works?”

Gon shook his head. He could feel his brain sloshing against the inside of his skull like the ice in his empty glass of water. He thought he understood, and he thought he knew what it meant, but evidently that wasn’t the case. 

Killua straightened up, turning fully to face Gon. With one elbow propped on the back cushion, he leant his head against his fist and said, “Streaming works differently, but with YouTube, anything that’s on there now? Even videos I made five fucking years ago—I still make revenue off of that shit. I don’t _need_ new content from you. I never needed content from you, period.”

“Th-Then why did you post all those v-videos?” Gon said, a slight hiccup in his voice. He covered his mouth with the tissue, leaning against his knees as Killua stared at him for a few seconds before turning away, eyes glancing over the living room. Gon realized then that he had only shown Killua his apartment in videos, Snapchats, FaceTimes. One time, Gon was certain Alluka had given Killua a personalized tour via her own video call with him.

Killua cleared his throat and said, “Do you know why I don’t post videos about Alluka?” Gon shook his head. “I don’t mind streaming with her because those are one-off. I don’t save clips that she’s in because I know what idiots will say about her. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of rewatching my content just to… jerk off over videos of her.”

“Ew,” Gon said, sticking his tongue out. “You want people to jerk off to videos of me?”

Killua rolled his eyes. “ _No_ , obviously not, but I can’t stop ‘em from _doing it_. I keep videos of you because _I_ rewatch them. A lot of my videos I outsource the film editing and I don’t look back at those. But I like looking back at videos of us because _I_ edited most of them. They remind me of why I even started this whole fucking schtick—‘cause it’s fucking _funny_ , dude. Now I’ve got this whole, like… _video album_ of us that’s fucking Oscar material.”

Gon was too shocked to laugh. He looked away, embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t even been aware that he was doing the same thing. He looked back through Killua’s Instagram feed more than once just to stop and stare at photos of the two of them together. He watched the videos Killua made of them together and, despite the sick sensation in his gut that told him that hundreds of thousands of others were watching them, he really _enjoyed_ reliving the content and remembering everything that came before and ahead of all of the clips Killua pieced together.

He looked down at his lap and whispered, “I didn’t realize you outsourced editing. I’ve only ever seen you editing videos.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re in so many of ‘em now,” Killua said with a huff. 

Gon smiled, eyes no longer watery. He tipped to the side and plopped his head onto Killua’s shoulder. Killua dropped his arm around Gon’s shoulders and pressed his cheek to Gon’s hair. They sat there together for a long while before Gon turned to Killua, and Killua turned to him. 

“You aren’t making money off of that t-shirt with my face on it, are you?” Gon asked.

Killua stared at him before shoving him in the face and saying, “No, you idiot!”

**Author's Note:**

> lmao I hope y'all like the one tag I put on this fic XD


End file.
